Stingue Week 2016
by Silver Sterling
Summary: For the prompts addiction, family, edolas, solitude and colourful/colourless. Mostly fluff and all happy endings.
1. Addiction

**Addiction**

Sting sat on the sofa, listening to the retching in the bathroom slowly fade into lethargic groans before Rogue stumbled back into the room and collapsed on top of him. He was starting to regret switching all their coffee to decaf (banking on the fact that Rogue was too tired without it for his nose to work properly and rat him out) in an attempt to deal with his mate's terrible caffeine addiction. It wasn't just coffee that was switched, oh no, tea, chocolate and even ice cream had to go if Rufus' research was right.

He was really in for it when these withdrawal symptoms died down and Rogue found out. Currently he was drifting on the verge of consciousness, curled into himself in Sting's lap as cramps wracked his body and his nose streamed. Irregular rhythms rocked his heart as it beat erratically against his ribcage, fuelling red irises with panic behind drowsy lids. Little childlike snuffles filled the room as he leant heavily into the caring hand on his head.

Part of Sting, the draconic side that told him to protect and heal and hoard, was screaming at him to stop this, find some caffeinated coffee and cure Rogue. But the more rational side stayed strong, knowing that if this is what withdrawal did to his mate's body that the drug itself was even worse.

Instead he stroked lazy circles across his hair and back while staring lovingly at the pained face beneath him. He didn't like intervening with Rogue's choices so brutally but this was how their relationship had evolved over time, looking out for each other in ways that worked out best in the end, whether the other agreed or not.

In the beginning it had meant so much to Sting, finally being free of Giemma and planning for a future rather than just how they could survive from one day to the next. Now it was ingrained in everyday life; Rogue putting plates of food in front of him when his stomach forgot, Sting dragging him to bed when he was up too late for the fifth time that week and sharing the brunt of guild work, paperwork, housework or anything really was completely natural at this point. Still, it held such a significance for the both of them that it was no surprise when a wave of emotion hit him. Cradling his boyfriend in his lap he felt tears drip down his skin to land on Rogue's paled cheeks, joining him in muffled sniffing. He scrunched his nose up in confusion, wrinkling the old scar across it, and looked up questioningly.

"What's wrong?" His voice was weak and hoarse after the toll the withdrawal symptoms had taken which only fuelled Sting's tears.

"It's all my fault! I hurt you." He sobbed.

Unfocussed eyes were tempted to roll but Rogue knew the only thing Sting needed right now was comfort.

"What are you talking about?"

"…I may have, uh, thrown away everything caffeinated we own and switched it to decaf? These are all withdrawal symptoms."

Now the eyes really did roll, the fog filling his brain muffling the anger and annoyance he normally would feel.

"I'm gonna kill you when this is over. I thought I was fucking dying." Rogue slurred behind a wry smile.

"I know." Sting pouted.

"You're safe for now though." He mumbled, burying his face deeper into Sting's clothes and letting the scent comfort him.

Soft strokes brushed through his hair as Rogue drifted in and out of sleep for a few hours, still nestled snugly in his partner's lap. Eventually having enough energy to sit up, he shifted to rest against Sting as an old movie lacrima played in black and white and the apologetic attention turned into feather light kisses against his neck. Smiling through the drowsiness Rogue tilted his head back, both giving Sting more room to pamper him and giving himself a place to rest his head while sleep took him in ebbs and flows.

By the time Rogue woke it was dusk. He was propped awkwardly on the couch on top of Sting who was sound asleep and emitting little protective growls through his snoring. Getting up to stretch out sore muscles, Rogue stared at the white dragon subconsciously reaching its claws out for its mate. _I am so lucky to have you._ He thought as he scooped up Sting to lay him down on their bed in the next room. Deciding it was time to call it a day as dizziness and a slight headache still plagued his mind, he slipped under the covers and curled up next to his boyfriend.

Little wake up calls like today were never pleasant but as the withdrawal symptoms faded for the day Rogue could admit that Sting's compassion and concern for him made up for it. The next morning he wasn't so sure.


	2. Edolas

**Edolas**

"Shit. It's time to go, come on!"

A flash of black against tanned skin leapt over the wall and grabbed Sting's hand, pulling him into a stumbling sprint through the market. There was no escaping the grasp intertwined through his fingers so he just let himself be dragged along while they wove between stalls to avoid the city guards chasing them. He just had to make an entrance every time, didn't he? No concept of the fact they were constantly put in danger because of these stunts.

Oblivious, his 'partner' continued to slip various produce into his bag all whilst running at full speed, disappearing off into the shadows before the shop owners noticed. The clattering of armour and weapons was getting ever closer but they made no move to stop. By now it was normal for Rogue to find him and disrupt his everyday life just to keep him company and Sting hated it. All he wanted was some peace and quiet, was that too much to ask for? Finally, after a few more lacrimas found their way into Sting's pockets, they reached the plaza in the middle of the market and he found himself whirled around to face Rogue who was grinning ecstatically.

"Watch this!"

He reached into his pocket before pulling out a small cube then clicking a few buttons on it before chucking it into the air. Streams of shadow flew out of the centre and swirled around the pair creating a dome of thick black fog around them.

"They won't be able to see us when we walk out through the shadows now and it's impenetrable from the outside as long as the weather's right, pretty cool huh? Not sure if it masks sound though so you might want to keep quiet while we get outta here."

They pushed through the dome just in time to see the utter bewilderment on the guards' faces, Rogue stopping to stick his tongue out at a few, before they slipped into the winding back alleys and made their way through town. Little wisps of black mist had tangled in Rogue's dark hair, making stray strands stick out and flow in the slight breeze as he scraped the rest back into a messy ponytail. How he thought hiding his face in public would protect his identity and keep them under the radar while pulling flashy stunts like that every week, Sting didn't know.

"How come I can see you if we're invisible?" He asked cautiously, being used to the bizarre strains of magic Rogue produced out of nowhere by now. Rogue's eyes widened and he pulled a face, looking back over his shoulder to see that no guards were tailing them so they must in fact be invisible to others.

"Maybe because we both walked through the same black stuff? Some's caught in your hair you know, it looks like you have bad frosted tips." He snickered while dodging the hand that was aimed at his head. "Hey, no need to be aggressive! I just found some super useful magic, let's go to the bar to celebrate."

After a few minutes of walking and eye rolling from Sting, the wisps of fog twisted then quickly expanded, dissipating off into the air while a few angry shouts were heard in the distance.

"Shit. I thought I used enough for it to last longer than that." Rogue muttered.

"And what exactly is that magic for? Defence to have a space to recover and being invisible don't seem to go together at all."

"I nicked it and Minerva messed around with the insides a bit so it has different settings, I just thought it'd be cool to try a few out at once. She warned me not to use it a lot in case the guild, uh I mean the 'bar staff', got into trouble and we needed to escape or sneak around."

"So you took this highly specialised, limited magic and wasted it after aggravating guards to follow you on purpose? When not only did you put both of us in danger but we could have easily got out of that without using noticeably black market magic?"

"…yeah. Is that so bad? Anyway time for a drink!" The rising pitch of his voice showed he felt at least a little guilty for his stupid actions so Sting was satisfied, for now.

"YO DOBENGAL, WE'RE BACK!"

The rowdy bartender waved them over with an enthusiastic shout before busying himself with their usual drinks.

"Sting's here today? That's unusual. How are ya buddy? Been doing some guild work?"

Sting frantically shushed him from his position from behind Rogue. He wasn't hiding, or that's what he'd convinced himself, he just didn't particularly like making small talk and even though Rogue pissed him off to no end, his love for attention and willingness to ramble on about what he found interesting (which was literally everything) was more than enough to cover for both of them socially.

"For the last time don't talk about guild work public," he hissed. "We're supposed to be disbanded! You're lucky Yukino didn't hear that." Both Rogue and Dobengal grimaced.

"Strict as ever I see!" he laughed before pushing a couple of glasses over the counter "Enjoy your drinks."

"You too." Sting muttered, already escaping to his favourite dark corner of the pub. It was only when Rogue walked over raising his eyebrows at him that he realised he'd made a mistake and banged his head on the table in embarrassment. "Go away Rogue, I don't wanna talk."

"That's no way to treat your best friend who you haven't seen in three weeks."

"You're not my best friend."

"Yeah, yeah I know." He waved his hand in dismissal.

"I hate you." Sting mumbled.

"Anyway something big happened," He interrupted and paused for effect, hoping for some reaction but he all he got was a slight tilt of Sting's head. "You know the massive lacrima that was in town? Gajeel told me it was made of people who are still alive in there. Mages from a parallel world who have magic inside their bodies."

"Come on that can't be true, parallel worlds don't exist."

"What if I told you that it wasn't just random mages from another planet, they're different versions of the people in Edolas."

"Now you're just bullshitting."

"How dare you! I'm telling the truth Sting. There were two Gajeels. Two!"

That caught Sting's attention.

"I saw them talking! The other people are from somewhere called Earthland and they have a Fairy Tail there too. Earth Gajeel is in Fairy Tail! Weird huh?"

"I need to see it to believe you. There were two of the exact same person here? Maybe you were just drunk or something."

"Not the same, different. The other Gajeel is a mage, has long hair, covered in piercings – he actually has eyebrows! Well kind of, they're also piercings… Anyway the only similarities were their bodies and the fact they're both deluded into thinking they're talented musicians. They're the reason that massive lacrima disappeared, you know."

"So Gajeel and another Gajeel got rid of magic we could have used? That's not really something to brag about."

"Weren't you listening when I told you that they were made of real live people? Most of Earthland's Fairy Tail are stuck like that and they'd die if we used it. Did you see the size of that lacrima? That was only Gray and, you'll never believe this, Knightwalker. She's one of Fairy Tail's strongest mages over there!"

"You're lying."

"I'm not! There's another Natsu who's wimpy in the car and strong out of it and another Wendy who's a little kid!"

"Wow a useful Natsu that must be unusual. What has this got to do with anything anyway?"

"Seriously? That's your reaction? This is the most interesting thing that's happened in forever aren't you at least a little intrigued?"

Sting just shrugged and they sat in silence for a bit, Rogue grumbling under his breath about how fascinating it was and how everyone else was excited to talk to him about it. After a while Rogue broke the comfortable silence again, this time his voice was quiet and thoughtful.

"Hey, what dyou think we'd be like in that parallel world?"

"You'd probably be quiet for once which would be great."

"Come on, take this seriously here."

"Fine. I do think you'd be a bit quieter at least. Maybe you'd only be loud when it was just us two or whoever your closest friend is over there. You'd be hard to read and not show every single emotion you have on your face." Rogue frowned. "And then… I think you'd be strong and level headed, probably overprotective and possessive too, and you'd look out for everyone in the guild."

"Hey, are you saying I'm not strong here? Rude. I can look after people too!" The fake outrage couldn't hide the warm smile on his lips, which soon turned into a smirk as he added "I think you'd wear crop tops and feather boas."

"What the fuck? Where did that even come from?" He asked, looking down at his grey jumper and jeans. "You're supposed to do nice ones like I did, not making me into a weird fashion nightmare!"

"Okay, okay I think you'd be a little kid like Wendy then. And me too."

Sting scowled at him while Rogue sniggered as he held up his hands in defeat.

"Sorry, it was just a hunch," he laughed. "For real, I think you'd always be the centre of attention and love it. You're probably strong too and would do anything to protect your friends. Oh! And you'd be like super arrogant I bet! You'd also be stupid and childish and basically an overexcited idiot."

"That sounds familiar..."

"Hey!"

They lapsed into silence again

"What dyou think we'd be like together?"

"What dyou mean?"

"Well, like the other Gray isn't in love with Earth Juvia. She's the one obsessed with him and they were shocked at Alzack and Bisca being all lovey dovey so that must be different over there too. Gray and Natsu are rivals instead of best friends. I just thought maybe our relationship would be different too."

"You mean I'd actually like you?"

"…Forget it."

Sting sighed.

"I think we'd be inseparable if our personalities were as we described them. They kind of go together don't you think? Two halves of a whole. Maybe we'd be in love if that's what you're hinting at, I don't know. I doubt you'd fall for an idiot in a crop top though."

"I definitely would. Maybe you should change your look and then I'll confess to you." Sting rolled his eyes.

"You're terrible at this kind of stuff you know, you mean fall in love with me not confessing." He lectured.

"I know what I said." Rogue smiled. "Guess you didn't have to wear a crop top after all."

Sting's brow furrowed as he blinked slowly. Rogue actually sounded serious for once and neither of them found playing with people's feelings funny… What was going on? He couldn't be drunk yet. Was that real? Did Rogue, oh Gods, did Rogue just confess to him?

Glancing up, Rogue flashed him another genuine smile which only made him gawk even more.

"Sorry, I've made it awkward haven't I? You can forget what I said it won't change anything. I'll just go."

"Wait!" Sting's shout attracted some wary glances from other customers as Rogue sank back into his seat.

He awkwardly slid along the booth so they were sitting next to each other and softly head butted Rogue's shoulder. A warm hand stroked his hair in apology but he shook his head, looking up into deep ruby red.

"You're not just doing this because you want to be like us in a parallel universe right?" Sting mumbled against his shoulder. Rogue turned to face him, keeping one hand on the back of his neck.

"You know I wouldn't do that Sting." Had his name ever sounded better? He didn't think so. "I like us just as we are."

They were leaning forward now, slowly snaking their arms around each other.

"Good," Sting murmured against closed lips. "Me too."

Finally leaning into the kiss Sting felt a sense of relief and comfort flood through him even as Dobengal was cheering loudly in the background and he could feel people's eyes on them. Maybe they were together and in love in another world, maybe they had been for years. But he was glad that right here and now it was just beginning and he could appreciate all of this fully from the start. Maybe imagining the opposite of themselves had helped him see that they really did belong together, no matter what world, crop top or not, they just did.


	3. Family

**Family**

Amber rays of light turned to blood orange against the plum sky and fell beneath the horizon as a warm arm slid around Rogue's waist.

They had grown so much in the past few years it was almost unbelievable. An arrogant kid turned powerful guild master and an anxious introvert now a brave protector of everything he loved.

Even when war tore through their country, breaking their guild, ripping apart their lives, they remained in solidarity. Fighting together and apart to win for their guild mates, their family, their future.

Recovering was a slow process, as it always is. Scenes of looming crosses, fierce dragons and demonic talons clawed their way into average days, stealing away conscious minutes and hours into nothingness and nightmares.

They used to live from one day to the next, surviving was never a long term plan when Giemma was around let alone living. Instead they snuck comfort through sweet kisses and stolen glances where only they could sit so close without suspicion. Relationship growing from dependence out of necessity to want and need in other areas that made surviving worth it.

Now they were free with only the memories of that past to chain them down. Intertwined into the core of Sabertooth, learning from mistakes to help future generations of their guild to grow. The main seven remained tightly knit at the centre, locking old memories of darker times away between them so the rest of their family could continue oblivious, Giemma's reign now faint enough to not be common knowledge among the newest recruits.

The first orphan adopted into the Sabertooth family since Sting became master certainly rocked the boat, reminding members who were raised here of their troubled childhoods and increasing age. A little girl overwhelmed by the addition of over a hundred brothers, sisters and cousins in place of her late parents. Minerva took a particular interest in her and took her under her wing until 'there were enough little brats to build a dorm' although it was pretty obvious when that time came the little girl would not be living there.

Orga would brag that he and Rufus were the first to get married and transition into mature adult life but Sting and Rogue had been mated long before that. Along with many other things that were foreign to a draconic upbringing, marriage was a tradition that had simply slipped their minds as it was secondary to a mating bond. Once reminded Sting would not shut up about tying the knot, even if it was just for show. Half of Fiore was invited to the big day and Rogue on the whole was exhausted but content. After all who could deny Sting an opportunity where he was centre of attention for a day and got to show off his mate?

Months of research and experimentation from Rufus, Freed and Levy finally paid off when a little girl was born in the guild infirmary. Blonde tuft of hair on her head to match one father, screams with the volume to rival the other. The look in Sting's eyes as he turned to Rogue and heard muffled sobs of 'she's gonna be a singer just like me' in the background was all that was needed to break the barrier. Like he'd ever say no to a child of their own anyway. The sight of the youngest guild member with a serene look on her face, curled up in his mate's arms was enough to make him tear up a little. Their own flesh and blood creating a whole new person, the thought made his stomach lurch with anxiety and adrenaline. Magic was wonderful, wasn't it?

Whoever thought that organising Minerva and Yukino's wedding to happen three weeks after Yukino gave birth to Sting and Rogue's baby was a good idea needed a severe reality check. On second thoughts, Minerva was nightmarish enough as a bride-to-be without added confrontation. Apparently it was their fault for asking Yukino to be their surrogate just days before Minerva planned on proposing, and she refused to wait any longer (They were also told rather forcefully that they had to adopt the rest of their children or at least stay away from Yukino forever). Flowers, paint, baby books and gifts flew through the guild and were exchanged in chaos in the months leading up to both big days. Dobengal helped paint the nursery while Rogue wrote invitations and Sting desperately tried to find a band that wasn't an all too enthusiastic offer from Orga or Gajeel. Still the time came and Sting gave Yukino away, with Sorano's blessing, while his husband waited at Minerva's side with her daughter and their little bundle of joy.

Now they stood in comfortable silence. Pointed chin digging into a caped shoulder and breathing in sync as they watched their son sleep. He was beautiful. 'A mini Sting' according to Rogue, 'A mini Rogue' according to Sting and 'A mini Gray!' according to Natsu ('he's just obsessed with his mate Sting let it go, it was a joke'). Mop of soft, messy black hair spread across soft skin and covering his closed sapphire eyes. Almost a year had passed since he arrived and they were still in awe of this little boy. A miracle born from years of pain and struggle and progress that they would protect with their lives. It was said that you didn't know real love until you had a child but Rogue wasn't so sure. Their child was the peak of an ever steepening gradient that had evolved over time, each new member of their family unlocking more love than they had possessed before. With each step they took forward the memories of the past were replaced so there was not a time that they could remember without him, without these feelings, without their family. And why would they want to change that?

* * *

 **A/N So I don't know if you noticed but the paragraphs got slightly longer as the fic went on which I decided to do after 3 or 4 when I noticed a pattern. I guess it can kind of represent them planning ahead and how older unhappier memories fade with time until you can't really remember a time without your current family and friends. Kinda proud of that? Maybe?**

 **I headcanon that Freed would definitely put a lot of research into magic that could give couples biological children if it couldn't happen natrually. I'm definitely a fan of combining science with magic and not of transphobic genderbending or m-preg which would be so dangerous with a cis man's body so that's why I chose a surrogate approach instead.**

 **Also headcanon that everyone in a guild with how many orphans there are, especially the dragonslayers and Gray who had adoptive parents, would adopt some children. A mix of biological and adopted probably for most.**

 **Also I have an AO3 account under the same name just with an underscore instead of a space so Silver_Sterling just in case you read on there and didn't know. I recommend AO3 so much it's so much easier to search for specific pairings/characters with its tag system and it's easier to leave positive feedback and I writers can also directly reply to your comments which is great and I make sure to reply to pretty much every comment I get on there.**

 **Thanks for reading :)**


	4. Solitude

**Solitude**

It was calming to sit with his back pressed up against the faceless statue made in his image and look out across the lake. Crumbling fingers of outstretched palms landed on his shoulder, the only comfort and company he needed in this solitude.

How long had it been since he went home? Too long, as the ruffled feathers of his wings were still freshly stained with coal that humans used when they visited a few hundred years ago. Even then the number of believers was dwindling. People liked to trust themselves and their own judgement, only accepting what they were taught as right or that they discovered with their own eyes.

And who was Rogue to judge that? He too only trusted in himself. The orders from up above long forgotten and inferior to the sense of duty he felt for this place. After all it was not like he'd been completely forgotten by up above or down below as a fair few still believed in him and his legacy, leaving him in this solitude while he thought of better ways to spend his unlimited time.

Being the long-term spiritual guardian of a major city was surprisingly boring. By now the underworld knew all about him and how he never left this meditative state unless there was trouble; choosing to fight fire with fire, shadow with shadow, darkness with darkness. If they left him alone he wouldn't go after them, leaving them to neighbouring towns and villages where the others should be doing their jobs. His people were safe and that's all that mattered.

Even after all these years, he still received messages and warnings from command and today was the first time he was truly shaken in a hundred years at least. A fallen one was coming.

Or rather they were just in the area, scavenging and sucking away life as they transversed between spiritual and mortal planes. Nothing too worrying had been spotted so far but that was suspicious in itself. They were always up to something; scheming, stealing and seeking revenge against the heavens that abandoned them.

Now Rogue wasn't particularly interested in this but the fact that the fallen one was heading into his territory meant one of two things: they were too new here to know of his reputation or they wanted to face him head on. Or maybe it was neither and Rogue was used to overanalysing after years alone.

As much as he hated to think of such a young spirit being abandoned by the heavens, the idea of an experienced evil coming towards him wasn't pleasant either. Fighting was fun, yes, but having no time to prepare for one of the biggest threats to the spiritual world wasn't. The only other option he could think of was if the fallen one had remained isolated from both worlds after their initial rejection and had not heard of him. Alone wandering in solitude like himself on the opposite side of the spectrum. There was not much time to ponder this before movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

Ripples formed in the centre of the lake, spreading out with rumbling currents as a blackened hand clawed its way to the surface. Palms flat against the water it pushed and tensed, slowly revealing wrists and forearms, the left one slumped forward to the elbow pulling the rest of its body up and out until it stopped and fell through the surface, back down to the murky depths below.

"Excuse me, could you give me a hand?" A voice broke through his panic, clear and sharp.

Suppressing a jump, Rogue turned just a fraction too slowly for a jolt and met anxious forget-me-not eyes staring into his. The man gave him an embarrassed smile while ruffling his hand through a mess of spiky blond hair.

Traces of the fallen one that was almost certainly dragging its way out of the depths of hell through his lake moments before disappeared, long forgotten in the midst of the man's radiant aura. While his body was in the human world, his spirit seemed to be shifting uneasily between realms which explained how he was able to see Rogue. Only the most troubled and desperate humans could reach him this way so the awkward cheeriness was out of place. He could already tell this man was a hell of a liar.

"What do you need?" Rogue asked, wondering how this human was not even the slightest bit surprised at the ragged wings protruding from his back.

"I'm pretty new here and would ya believe it I got completely lost," he laughed. "I don't have any money or anything else really. Would you mind showing me around a bit?"

That was it? Getting lost in a park two minutes away from the city where hundreds of other humans could help show his way around? How was it possible to be in enough desperation over that to see him? Something wasn't right about this but Rogue had nothing to do and it'd been a while since he felt someone's eyes on rather than through him. A walk would help to untangle the mess the fallen one had already created in his mind anyway.

"Where do you want to go?"

Keep formal, instincts told him. Humans liked their guardians to be authority figures but years of experience taught him that the booming voice of the heavens they used to respect would now spook them more than anything. Seriously humans were exhausting. Writing their own book of rules meant to be from the Gods then being surprised when guardians weren't like the stories they made up, typical.

"Just the sights around the city maybe? Dunno if we'd find anywhere prettier than this lake though." Rogue offered him a bemused smile over his shoulder before leading the way forward. "I'm Sting by the way."

"…Rogue." This offering of personal information was more guarded. Although the letters were weathered away on the stone behind him, his name was still legible at the foot of the angel statue. This human, Sting, seemed completely oblivious to the fact that Rogue was blatantly not mortal and now was not the time to startle him. Being stressed enough to either hallucinate or not notice the large black wings was also possible, he supposed.

Rogue stayed one step ahead as they wove between parked cars and passers-by, going over a plan of attack for when the fallen one breached his barriers again in his head. That lake had been the easiest place for the barriers between worlds to break a few centuries ago, and down below it still looked as inviting as an open back door to a thief, however he had spent years gradually purifying the water within and with additional added barriers that lake was now the holiest place in the city. It was oddly gratifying to hear a human complement its beauty after all this time especially when its integrity had just been questioned with the appearance of the fallen one's hand.

Turning back to the human, he saw a look of pure wonder on his face as he gazed around and took in the cityscape. Now they were amongst other humans, Rogue noticed the clothes Sting wore were wildly different to the modern fashions. A tattered white shirt where the sleeves had been ripped clean off with a darker waistcoat over the top. On one side a suspender hung down from where the hem of his trousers rested on slender hips then tucked into lace up boots. His naked arms were slim but muscular and ended in dark leather gloves up to his wrists.

"Are you not cold?" It was the middle of December after all and bare arms were unheard of in the winter outdoors if Rogue remembered correctly. Sting looked at him in surprise as he was broken out of his reverie and then glanced down at his attire.

"Oh, uh, I have lost my jacket…and my necktie and my..." He brushed a hand through his hair again. "My hat. Yes I lost my… No one's wearing a hat, are they…" He trailed off, seemingly flustered after returning from his wondrous daze.

"Are you alright?" With a slight nod of his head, Sting returned to staring around at the scenery.

"I've never seen buildings so tall. Isn't it dangerous? Don't people fall?" That caught Rogue off-guard.

"Sometimes people do fall yes, although we try to stop them if we realise." He paused. "It's a terrible thing."

"Choosing to fall… I can't imagine it." Sting said slowly, looking up to find Rogue with glassy eyes.

"My mentor chose to fall. Except he was unable to, so I had to push him." Sting's eyes darkened as they fell to the ground. "I usually try not to think about these things."

Humming in agreement, Sting stepped closer to the angel which prompted him to move forward once more. They trawled around the city for a while longer in silence, Sting's level of childish amusement not returning even as he took in the new sights. Gradually the sky darkened from a deep plum to a dark midnight blue, clouds swirled across the empty navy canvas to aid light pollution in obscuring the stars.

"It's late but no inn will take you if you have no way of payment. What will you do?" Sting fiddled with a loose button on his shirt, looking reluctant to leave Rogue but also refusing to meet his eyes. "If you have nowhere to go you can come with me. However I cannot offer any real shelter."

Slowly he nodded, moving ever closer to Rogue so their shoulders pressed up against one another as they trudged forward. Sting swayed slightly as he walked, his gaze never moving from the ground as he lightly kicked at stray pebbles on the path. His emotions had been fluctuating madly ever since they had reached the inner city, wonder and amazement turned into confusion then something akin to dread and panic all contained in his hunched body. Now he was clearly overwhelmed and reverting back to a childish mind-set to try and cope.

Why was he so shaken up over their trip? It wasn't a social anxiety from what Rogue could tell, he had specifically asked to be taken to places that would be filled with other people. What had affected him most was not the people but their clothes, their houses, the everyday things that everyone took for granted. Had they been so greatly different to what he was expecting or used to or…what? What circumstances would cause someone to react like this?

As they reached the lake Sting began to nervously fiddle with his gloves, drawing Rogue's attention to his slender wrists and singed skin underneath leather. Reaching out he tried to take his arm to examine the wound but Sting jerked away, pupils shrunk down to thin panicked slits as the glove was caught on Rogue's pale fingers and pulled off.

Grimacing, he gritted his teeth as the same charred maroon claw from the lake was revealed at the end of his arm. The human world immediately rejected the demonic parts of his body and started forcing them back into the lower realms. It was as if his body had glitched, a silent scream caught in his throat as his hands were separated slightly from the rest of his body that remained in the human world. Moving cautiously, he stepped away from Rogue and held his trembling arms in front of his chest, claws shortly following as he winced in pain. Rogue had already subconsciously released tendrils of shadow to snake around his body and ruffle the raven feathers of his wings which were now fully spread and menacing on his back.

"Fallen." He growled, darkness now fully enveloping his body as he prepared to attack. "Why did you come here?"

Surprisingly Sting flinched away, wrapping his arms tighter around himself so that his claws began to dig into his own flesh.

"I-I'm sorry. I really am, okay? I didn't mean to come here. The-they mess with your memories when you fall. I didn't know who I was for a long time, I'm not sure how many years have passed since but I avoided beings from both realms as much as I could. I've been alone for so long but then I saw you. Your wings, your lake, y-your story…" He sniffed loudly as tremors rocked his body and thick, glassy tears began to fall. "Talking to you…They said I killed my own mentor, destroyed him to show my own strength. But that's not true! I would never do…I would never…" His throat constricted again as he tried to force the words out. "He was like a father to me! Why would I do that? Why? I don't want to hurt anybody. Believe me! My magic's still holy. I don't understand what's happening to me…I-I thought y-… I wanted you to help…"

"Me?" Rogue asked taken aback but still on guard, shadows moving to swirl around his limbs instead of his whole body now. "What made you think I would have any idea about this?"

"You don't know your own reputation in the underworld? Angel of darkness? Y-your power?" Seeing Rogue's blank expression Sting sighed as his shoulders slumped. "I thought you know a dark angel might be able to help a light demon but I guess I was wrong. Do whatever you want with me I guess, it's not like I care about living like this anyway."

Rogue's mind whirred as he tried to place the demon's new aura but as more and more of his body slipped into lower planes it was getting too difficult. This defeatist attitude and devaluing of his own life was all too familiar and Rogue had vowed never to harm a non-threatening presence again. He didn't seem that bad but could a demon truly be trusted? With their similar pasts and unfitting magic it was almost as if they were made for each other, two halves of a whole.

It was too soon yet too late. What could he do to convince Sting to stay while also protecting himself? Why was he getting so attached to someone he'd only known for a few hours? A demon no less?

For how long had he been living in empty solitude? Too long, as the ruffled feathers of his wings were still freshly stained with coal that humans used when they visited a few hundred years ago. Even then the number of believers was dwindling but he had gained one anew with high expectations. People liked to trust themselves and their own judgement, only accepting what they were taught as right or that they discovered with their own eyes and celestials were no different. However for once Rogue trusted in his gut rather than his overactive mind, reaching out to end solitude for the both of them.

"Stay."

* * *

 **Bonus: They work together with Sting making connections in the underworld and acting as a spy and slowly make enough allies on the other side to expand their territory and now guard a huge area of the world together. Rogue still hasn't gone back home so no one knows he's getting help from demons but at this point he wouldn't care about being kicked out of the heavens anyway. Spiritual power couple yes. Ally demons are members of Sabertooth (even Yukino) and other guardians are the dragons slayers I guess if we're going down the dragons being mentors route.**

 **A/N Basically me ( buy-bye-bi) and taylor-fairy on tumblr were talking about Sting and Rogue being an angel and a devil but both being a bit shit at their jobs so this happened. Honestly so proud of myself that I used foreshadowing consciously. I'm not sure how much sense this made or if I was just rambling for most of it so I hope it was legible. I enjoyed writing this anyway :)**


	5. ColourfulColourless

**Colourful/Colourless**

 _TW: Hinted eating disorder, dissociation and self harm mention._

Sting had always filled his life with colour. Bright, sunny yellows, vibrant blues and dazzling golds seeping into every corner, washing across the bleary realities of everyday life.

At first it had just been a distraction, chasing bright lights that showed the way forward instead of staying in the darkness. Now it verged on obsession. Citrine blue eyes automatically avoiding darker, dreary colours as he floated through the city. Dull colours were boring, too murky to draw clear lines and put them into clear boxes. They muddied his thoughts and dragged him back to darker times when he had just lost his father. Extinguishing the biggest light in his life with his own hands no less to be left at the mercy of the shadows.

It was easier to avoid them and run than face up to the consequences of what he had done. The guilt always eating away more than he could consume and regain but that was in the background so he didn't care, not much.

Loneliness began to wear away at his edges when he collapsed exhausted at home and the clashing colours covering his walls no longer jarred him from his thoughts. He didn't feel right in his own skin. Wasn't there, not really. Tattoos would be nice if he had the money. Instead he settled for streams of red running down pale wrists. The scars were dull but they could be covered by bright blue gloves, keeping him separate from the world.

He used to take pictures. Spending days on end searching for pretty colours to fit his aesthetics and plaster his walls with. So much beauty in the world to be captured. Except now, when it was a rarity and everything was a blur.

Restless amongst the greys of college classrooms, his attention never held long. His mind screaming in unease channelled into bouncing legs thudding against wooden tables, leaving bruises too unsaturated for him to care. Outside the leafy greens of grass were marred by mud and frost, flowers seemed to wither up and disintegrate in front of his eyes as the trees were stripped bare by harsh wind. Light slipped away faster at this time of year, spilling through his clenched fingers no matter how hard he grasped.

Colours blurred and distorted with time, it only took one second for a darker tone to grey the rest, and often he would end up trapped in the dark, having to desperately sprint home past shadow demons and objects robbed of their colour before they caught him.

On one of those evenings he wasn't going to make it. He could feel something gaining on him, prickling and creeping up his spine where his clothes blocked out the remaining light. Seeking refuge in a warmly lit café with walls the colour of blood, he burst through the doors and leant heavily against the nearest table panting before he made eye contact with the person sitting there.

A monochrome man who seemed to blend in with the shadows. Dark greying circles sunk under his eyes, wasted youth pooling in dents in the porcelain skin that contrasted so starkly with inky locks and jet black robes. His eyes might as well have been blank too, seeming to reflect the colour of the room instead of holding any of their own.

His heart lurched in his chest, his stomach clenching in its place as he stared at the embodiment of everything he was not. How could he remain so calm like this? Swathes of darkness and shadow hanging loosely off his slender frame instead of reaching for his neck and choking. Life and colour drained out of him, yet he was still very much alive, a spark flickered in the back of blank staring eyes and Sting felt… safe, but only just.

He felt those eyes boring into him as the man spoke, deep and rich and dark, and it vibrated in Sting's bones shaking the unease from them. Still he was wary as he sat down, sweat rolling down his palms and darkening thinner patches of worn material and he found he didn't care, not as much. Staring at the wrinkled cloth, his panic was not for fear of the dark but rather the fear of being without fear. It was strange. Empty. Calm. He should have been horrified but as the man's voice washed over him and he found himself replying, only noticing when his throat rumbled with warmth that the fear was just not there. It would be back, he knew that at least, but for now, for now he was safe with the man who conquered shadow and darkness.

Months passed as Rogue made his way into Sting's life, bringing colourlessness without taking any colour in its place. Teaching him how to ground himself in the night sky instead of the stars that shone brighter. Adding depth and gradient and variety, endless possibilities after the limits Sting had inadvertently set upon himself. And in return, although he needed no compensation, Sting taught Rogue how to lose himself from the moment, highlight important moments with colour amongst greyscale, to live. He watched as colour flooded into previously sullen cheeks and even tired bags gained peach and plum underneath. In turn he became more defined and real, he owned his body more now than ever before.

They weren't perfect by any means but they were alive. And if one day they weren't together, Sting had grown and wasn't afraid of the dark anymore.


End file.
